


Atonement, Part 3

by elfin



Series: Atonement [3]
Category: Flatliners (1990)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: Saturday.





	Atonement, Part 3

Something woke me. It was semi-dark in the apartment, but the street lights easily permeated the threadbare cloth that had served as curtains since the day I moved in. I could see Rachel fast asleep at the other end of the couch, Joe in the armchair across from me, Steckle slumped against the wall, half-empty bottle of JD clasped to his chest. 

I heard something, that unmistakable whimper of someone screaming in their sleep. I was off the couch in a second, through into the other room, more luck than judgement that I didn’t stand on anything and wake the others. 

‘Nelson?’ The ECG was showing an elevated heartbeat, I could hear his breathing, fast and shallow. Crouching down, I put my hand on the mountain of blankets he was lying under and gave him a nudge. ‘Nelson.’ The last thing I wanted was to jolt him awake and put any further strain on his heart but his eyes snapped open suddenly, wide and terrified. ‘Hey, it’s me. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.’ 

His fear was understandable. He’d been terrorised by the ghost, or the memory of the ghost of a dead kid. I watched him cast around the room for anyone hiding in the shadows. ‘It’s just us. Billy’s gone.’ Christ, I hoped Billy had gone. 

‘It was real....’ It sounded like a plea rather than a question. I didn’t know if Nelson meant now or during the last week. I didn’t know if it had been real, but Nelson’s injuries weren’t make up, him coming apart at the seams wasn’t play acting. He hadn’t flatlined alone, painfully and uncontrolled, to prove anything to us.

I went with much needed reassurance over common sense. ‘It was. But it’s over.’ I offered him a wry smile. ‘We injected you with everything that was in the lab, more or less, so you can expect to experience some hallucinations.’

To my relief, Nelson met me halfway, pulling in a shaky breath. ‘Oh... joy.’ His voice was scratchy, not unexpectedly. He forced a smile despite the pain I knew he was in. Even in the dirty light making it through the moth eaten cloth at the windows he looked pale, dark circles around his eyes. His chest must have felt like a punching bag, bruised, burnt, a couple of cracked ribs. We hadn’t been gentle trying to revive him; I hadn’t been gentle. I felt guilty about that. ’Where… am I?’

‘My place. My bed. You know you didn’t have to go to such extremes to get here.’ 

He either didn’t hear me, or he was ignoring the innuendo. Either was fair. By rights, he should have been in the hospital, but that would have raised the potential for too many questions we couldn’t answer without getting ourselves arrested and thrown out of school. He looked like crap, but he was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen because he was alive. And for the longest time last night, for fourteen minutes that had felt like a lifetime, I was certain - we all were - that we’d lost him even as we fought to bring him back.

‘You scared the shit out of me, man.’ The words burst from me like they refused to stay inside. It felt like trying to hold back a flood. 

‘I’m sorry.’ 

It was a surprise, because I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard him apologise before. He even sounded like he meant it. After everything he’d been through, maybe he did. His eyes drifted closed. We needed to talk if we were going to get through this, but not now. I rose to my feet, intending to go back into the other room until I saw Nelson’s lips move and swore I heard the words, ‘please stay,’ the barest whisper. I could easily have pretended I hadn’t heard him, but his defences were gone, shattered, he was vulnerable and I knew every request for help cost him plenty and left him more exposed. So I nodded, walked around and scooted onto the other side of the bed, making sure I wasn’t sitting on any of his blankets.

‘I’ll be right here.’

‘Thank you.’ 

He was asleep again in seconds, and I could have left without him realising I’d gone but I’d walked away from him one too many times already. So I got as comfortable as I could sitting with my back against the mountain adorning the wall and settled so I could see the rise and fall of Mount Nelson, and the silent running commentary of the ECG.

I finally knew why the walls Nelson had constructed around himself had been so high, so impenetrable, why he was a bigger asshole than me. When I came to med school, I was full of ambition and full of myself, but I couldn’t hold a candle to the ego driven mania of Nelson Wright. Still, didn’t stop me obsessing about the guy. I remember the first time I laid eyes on him, catching sight of a blond guy in black trousers and a white shirt striding across campus like he owned it, glasses pushed back into short blond hair the colour of honey, hands in his pockets, sleeves rolled up. I was drawn to him, a moth to the proverbial flame. I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I went up to him, stopped him in his tracks, sticking my hand out to introduce myself. I was done in by the friendly smile, bright blue eyes, strong handshake, tiny blond hairs on tanned forearms. Unfortunately I was in love before Nelson even opened his mouth, which was my bad luck. Why are the gorgeous ones always complete dicks?

At least now I know now why this gorgeous one is a prick. And his story is worse than I could ever have imagined. But with his well built defences in tatters, I was interested and more than a little anxious to find out who Nelson would be without them. 

He grunted in his sleep, turned his head, clearly agitated. I hesitated but I’m not a complete asshole and I’m not that worried by my own wayward sexuality that I can’t offer a friend comfort when he’s hurting. I lay my hand on top of his head, teased the sweat-damp hair at his crown and that seemed to work. He calmed, settled again, and I chose to interpret that as tacit, if not express, permission to touch. A few minutes later, I was stroking his hair the way I’d longed to since that first warm day on campus three years ago. 

*

A hand on my shoulder woke me so suddenly I almost broke Steckle’s nose with my forehead. Luckily he kept hold of the mug of coffee he was holding out to me. I was very grateful after a couple of hours’ fitful, alcohol fuelled sleep. I slowly became aware of a warm patch of my thigh and wondered for a moment if I’d managed to wet myself until I I looked down and saw Nelson was sleeping with his head pillowed against my leg, my fingers still - embarrassingly - tangled in his hair.

Steckle thankfully chose to ignore that detail. ’How did he sleep?’

‘I came in when he had a nightmare.’

‘And how did you sleep?’

I knew that wasn’t what he was actually asking. ‘Winnie’s gone. I think Billy has too.’ 

Carefully I eased myself off the bed, rolling Nelson’s head back carefully onto the pillow without waking him. In the early morning light I could his face coming out in mottled purple and greenish bruises. The cut at the side of his eye was red and angry. 

I made a mental note to get to the pharmacy and grab some broad spectrum antibiotics just in case it was infected.

Rachel and Joe were making breakfast. Rachel hugged me, also asked about Winnie - directly - and reassured me she’d made peace with her father, possibly even herself. 

Not so sure about Joe, he didn’t look as if he’d slept well. Over a smoking frying pan, I asked him if was still having hallucinations of the women in his tapes and he nodded, embarrassed. 

‘It seems trivial, you know? Rachel’s Dad and Nelson…’

I shook my head. ’They’ll drive you crazy. You need to contact them, apologise.’

Joe flipped the bacon in the pan. ‘You do know how many women we’re talking here?’ He didn’t sound as if he was bragging but I had to laugh,

‘Should have kept it in your pants.’ I remembered the price Joe had paid and squeezed his shoulder. ‘Sorry about Ann.’

‘Thanks. Me too. How’s Nelson?’

‘Gonna be sore for a few days. We need to keep him calm and rested. After what he went through last night….’ We all knew well enough the possible complications of oxygen starvation, not to mention the cocktail of drugs mixing in his bloodstream.

‘Any sign of brain damage?’

‘I don’t know. I mean… I don’t think so but we won’t know for sure until he’s up and about.’

Steckle handed me a plate with pancakes stacked in the centre, to which Joe added charcoaled bacon. He pulled a chair out from under the table and instructed, ‘Sit. Eat.’

If they’d have asked, I’d have said I wasn’t hungry, but with food in front of me, my stomach rumbled and I dug in, trying to remember the last time I’d eaten…. In the diner the afternoon before Rachel went under. Forty hours ago at least. With the others milling around my apartment and Nelson alive, asleep in my bed, I felt relaxed enough to eat. 

Five, ten minutes later I washed my plate and went back to check on Nelson. Rachel was with him, perched on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and reassuring him that she was fine, possibly better than she’d been since she was five years old. Nelson’s voice was quiet, I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was a good sign that he was awake and communicating.

When she stood, I told her, ’Steckle and Joe are going to the pharmacy.’ To the store too. I’d told them they should take off, that I was fine to take care of Nelson, but Joe stressed were still in this together. I thought that in the last week we’d been together in much the same way as the drivers in a collective car crash. But I kept it to myself. 

They still had potentially more to lose than me. I was already on suspension when Nelson flatlined the first time, Rachel had walked out of class on Friday morning, and Joe and Steckle had gone after her. Ironically, Nelson might have been the only one of us to still have a place at school on Monday. Not he wasn’t going to be in any state to attend.

She said, ‘I’ll go with them. He needs IV saline.’ I could have kicked myself for not thinking about it last night.

‘Shit. I’m such a fucking idiot. We should have brought it with us….’

‘We had a lot on our minds.’ Understatement of the week.

‘Rachel….’

She squeezed my fingers. ‘You were there for me yesterday when I needed you. Nelson needs you now.’ 

He needed me yesterday too, and I walked away from him. ‘We should talk….’ 

She nodded. ‘We will.’ She kissed my cheek and squeezed passed me. When I glanced across, I realised Nelson had been watching us. He smiled weakly at me when I took Rachel’s place on the edge of the bed and reached for my scope. 

‘Sorry about the saline. Some fucking doctor I’m going to make.’

‘Dave… you saved my… life yesterday.’

‘Only to try to kill you slowly over night.’

‘Don’t be... an idiot.’ It sounded like he was talking over sandpaper which had to hurt.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I’ve been… hit by a train.’

‘On the pain scale?’

‘Two.’

‘Don’t lie to your doctor.’

That got a chuckle, which made him wince. ‘Chest... eight. Face… six. My head hurts.’

‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

‘Two.’ I flipped him the bird. ‘One. Fuck you too.’

Relieved to laugh, I paused with my hand over the blankets pulled up to Nelson’s chin. ‘I need to get under there, and this is going to be cold. Sorry.’

‘You’re going to be a great doctor, Dave.’ 

It was hard not to react when I saw the mess I’d made of Nelson’s torso. The bruising was just coming out and I could make out dark areas the same size and shape as my fist. Just applying the scope obviously hurt him but i needed to listen for murmurs, stutters, anything that might be a sign of damage caused by a prolonged state of anxiety and fear, numerous stimulants, electric shocks, chest compressions and a pounding on by a crazy man screaming at him not to stay dead. 

By the time I was happy, Nelson was shivering. I pulled the blankets back up over him, careful not to touch bare skin.

‘Sorry.’

‘What for? Saving me?’

‘I… might have got carried away, trying to save you.’

‘I’m glad you did, or I wouldn’t be here.’

Reaching for the thermometer, I couldn’t help but ask, ‘Did you want to die?’

‘No… yes. I don’t... know. I just... couldn’t live like that. That’s… how we made Billy live. That’s what… he wanted me to experience. It’s the only… way I could think of.’

‘Why won’t anyone talk to me? We could have put you under again, controlled and safe.’

‘It was… never safe.’

‘You know what I mean.’ 

Nelson eyed the thermometer. ‘Where were you… thinking of… putting that?’ I’d worried we might never get our friendship back to where it was before this fiasco, but for whatever reason, Nelson was making it easy. 

His temperature was high, although he wasn’t feverish. High blood pressure was a good sign, his body doing the right things, helping him get over his ordeal, at least physically. God knew how long he’d have nightmares for, how long he’d look for Billy around corners and in the shadows. ‘I’ll get you some chips.’

In the early hours of that morning, Joe had hit on the idea of putting an ice cube in a bag and smashing it repeatedly against the wall until it broke up into ice chips we could feed to Nelson. That was after we’d tried giving him a glass of water and he’d thrown it back up along with a measure of stomach acid. 

Any sane person think he must have been drunk off his tits to kill himself with only an outside chance he’d be found in time to save his life. But he hadn’t been out of my sight all day until I’d handed over responsibility for him to Joe and Steckle, and they’d spent their evening in a graveyard until he’d freaked out and left them stranded. I kept imagining him administering the potassium, how scared he must have been, how alone he must have felt. I’ve been a shitty friend. Right now, just looking at him hurt like hell.

I’d taken a couple of ice chips through to him when the door banged open and shut again, and Joe almost fell into the room with an IV and a bag of saline. He was out of breath. 

‘Did you run all the way back from the university?’

‘What? No. Steckle and Rachel dropped me off - they’re going to the store but we thought Nelson should have these.’ He pulled a small plastic pot of pills from his pocket. Antibiotics. 

‘Why are you…?’

‘I ran up your stairs.’

‘One flight? You need to get more exercise, and I mean the sort that you don’t do in your bedroom.’

‘Do you want this or not?’ He held out the saline and Nelson reached for it, hand visibly shaking. 

‘Yes.’

I intervened, guilty enough that I was starting to wonder if I ever flatlined again, would Nelson be the one hunting for my forgiveness. ’Sorry.’ 

Nelson was still downing ice chips, so I popped the cap off the bottle of antibiotics and put two pills into his hand. ‘Take these. Two every four hours.’ I set an alarm on my watch. Joe had taken down my lamp and used the hook to put up the IV bag, attaching the tube. I broke the seal on the needle, got the IV running and Nelson put out his left arm, watching me tap a vein, insert and tape the needle in place. 

‘Nicely done... Dr Labraccio.’

It was a minute before I thought to let go of his hand.

*

The others got back from the store with more food than I usually keep in the apartment. They filled the fridge and made sandwiches, talking about nothing as we sat around the table, avoiding the things we should have been talking about. Steckle had brought a telephone directory and a campus directory back from his apartment with a view to spending the afternoon going through it, making a note of all the female students Joe thought he might have slept with. 

At half one, I had to wake Nelson to get more antibiotics into him, change the saline bag, check his bp and the oxygen levels in his blood, take his temperature, listen to his heart for the full two minutes. 

‘How am I doing, Doc?’ His voice was stronger, and when I finished, he pushed himself into a sitting position with some considerable effort, trying uselessly to hide the pain.

‘Not too bad for a guy who’s died twice in a week.’ 

‘Dave….’

‘You’re running a temperature, your blood oxygen’s low, but your bp’s normal for someone in your position, your heart sounds fine, your lungs are fine. You’re one lucky bastard, in my professional opinion.’

Nelson smiled. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Don’t thank me-‘

His fingers against my knee cut me off. ’For not giving up on me. For… yesterday? For the ride, the company. Taking pity on me.’

‘Not pity. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do for you. You scared me yesterday, Nelson, so fucking much, over and over again.’

‘Is that why you... handed me to Joe and Steckle? Or do you just prefer Rachel’s company to mine?’

Needing to do something, I wrapped my fingers around his. They were so cold and I started to rub them. 

‘You know the answers to both of those questions. I was watching you fall apart in front of me, I didn’t know how to help you and it was killing me.’

Nelson tightened his fingers around mine. ‘I called you. Rachel answered.’

‘I left her here after she’d told me about her father. I went to get Joe and Steckle, then we went straight to the chapel to try to stop you doing anything stupid. I thought we were too late. I thought I’d lost you.’ I lifted his hand to my mouth, closed my eyes and kissed his fingers. When I opened them again, there were tears running over his face and he swiped at them with his other hand. ‘Sorry. I’m…. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Your system’s stressed out and the guy you’ve been waiting to make a move for three years chooses now to pull his finger out of his ass….’

‘Which would... explain... why you haven’t needed me.’ He forced a smile.

‘Funny. Very funny.’ 

We sat for a while, fingers tangled, just letting whatever was happening between us happen in its own time, until he murmured,

‘At the risk of spoiling this moment….’

‘You need to pee.’ Inevitably. ‘Bathroom or bedpan?’

*

It was a quiet afternoon. Joe went out to start on his apologies in person. Rachel went out, I don’t know where she went, possibly to visit her Mom or her Father’s grave. Steckle and I enjoyed the silence. I crashed on the couch and read while he sat at the kitchen table and wrote. I didn’t ask what. Nelson slept, healed.

Nothing untoward happened. He woke mid-afternoon after another nightmare, but at least his dreams weren’t leaving him with serious physical injuries. I sat with him until he settled back again, then went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.

I offered Steckle a mug and he nodded. ’How’s he doing?’

‘Physically, he seems fine. He’s shaken.’

‘He was stalked by the psychotic, violent memory of a kid whose death he still feels responsible for, until he was so terrified he killed himself to fix it. So shaken is probably a normal reaction.’

‘I know. I just hope I can help him.’

‘I think you’re probably the only one of us who can.’

*

Joe returned after dark with Chinese food. A lot of Chinese food. 

Nelson was still out of it and sleep was the best thing for him so we let him be. 

‘Do you think he’ll ever tell anyone?’ Steckle asked me as he stabbed a prawn ball with a chopstick. We knew well enough that Nelson’s original intention had been fame and glory. 

‘I doubt it. He’d put his career in jeopardy, ours too and I don’t think he’d do that to us now.’ Rachel had told me what he’d said when he’d called here on Friday night, the apology he’d insisted on making. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d called here, expected to talk to me. Wanted to talk to me, to say sorry. 

‘You think he still wants to be a doctor?’ It was a good question. He looked directly at me. ‘Do you?’

‘Yeah. Possibly more than I did before. I don’t know about Nelson. I don’t know if he ever wanted to be a doctor. Research maybe. Surgeon.’ 

Joe, listening in, scoffed at that. ‘Would you trust him with your life?’

I nodded without hesitation. ‘Absolutely. I did, remember? We all did, except for Steckle.’ I smiled at him, no offence meant. He smiled back. None taken. 

‘The brains of the group,’ he pointed at himself. ‘The control subject.’

‘The most important subject in any experiment.’


End file.
